


my janus-faced god

by abettafish



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Blood God Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Dreamon, M/M, We're going back to Pogtopia boys, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), god dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 06:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abettafish/pseuds/abettafish
Summary: Dream has, and always will be, a consistency in his life. His most prominent memories are of him, which is saying a lot because Gods have thousands upon thousands of them. Sometimes they fight in those flashes, sometimes they lay close to one another with whispered words that sprout cheeky smiles on their faces. He cherishes them all, even if some of those select few still give him paper thin cuts on his heart.It’s why he is ashamed to admit how long it took him to realize the man in front of him, talking to Wilbur with alluring words, isnotDream.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 142





	my janus-faced god

**Author's Note:**

> finish my other things first or write something new? we know my choice.
> 
> i have a twitter now pls go follow it: @atwtbettafish

People have this false impression that Gods know everything, that they sense the most minute inconsistencies with a dangerous precision. The truth is nothing in this world is omnipotent. There are those that strive to be, to spread their awareness so thin that can lay their fingertips on a great number of things. Those Gods fall fast and silently, like a tissue that hits the ground with a whisper and is forgotten easily within the next moment.

Technoblade is not one of those Gods. He is heavy, has impact wherever he goes; he holds _weight_ – in more sense than one. His name is chanted by the masses as they pound their feet against stadium floors. His Godhood feeds on the adrenaline, the chaos he creates. It’s the fear in the eye of his opponent as they realize they’ve been bested; the explosive energy of Wither’s being brought to life on soul sand. It’s a hard thing to have has as your source, but he makes it look easy.

He isn’t the only one of his kind with the same chaotic source – there is one other, with a white mask and green colored motif. He knows them well, more than what many might know, since the introduction of their “rivalry” is how most remember the start of their relationship. Technoblade cannot fault them for this, as the average mortal being lives only a fraction long as they’ve known one another.

Have _loved_ one another.

It’s a quiet then loud thing – they can spend years apart before coming back together like a whirlwind before dissipating once more. They are a storm; a destructive force that understands they both benefit from the chaos they create. So, they feed into one another as an endless cycle. They _know_ each other, deeply, even when their goals run different courses through history.

Dream has, and always will be, a consistency in his life. His most prominent memories are of him, which is saying a lot because Gods have thousands upon thousands of them. Sometimes they fight in those flashes, sometimes they lay close to one another with whispered words that sprout cheeky smiles on their faces. He cherishes them all, even if some of those select few still give him paper thin cuts on his heart.

It’s why he is ashamed to admit how long it took him to realize the man in front of him, talking to Wilbur with alluring words, is _not_ Dream.

The thought crawls into his brain slowly over the day, as they speak of explosives under the nation Wilbur had previously been so determined to get back. The imposter had been careful to keep the visits it had been making short, even the one on the mountain top between the two had been just a few moments. He hadn’t thought too much of it – even if he had to water down his disappointment in the moment.

He stands, catching Tommy’s attention, and heads out of the ravine with determined steps. He says nothing about the small mortal who stumbles after him with nervous hands clasped together. His march brings him a couple hundred paces away from the Pogtopia refuge. Techno had walked so far, with his shadow floundering to keep up, so then he could do something he rarely does. He pulls in a deep breath and stretches his sense across the DreamSMP nation.

It feels wrong, foreign, and his inner instincts wither at the action. He must do it, however, because that thing filling Wilbur’s head with false promises isn’t Dream.

“What’re you doin’, Big Man?” Tommy asks, voice more quiet than normal. Techno lifts a hand, indicating his desired silence from the other. He wonders if Tommy can feel his influence seeping across the world. The war God had never done this before, so he wasn’t sure just how far he could go.

Apparently, it was far enough. The smallest blip on his radar has him pulling in a startled breath. It’s a flickering ball that, as he passes over it, grapples to sink its fingers into him. The feeling isn’t malicious, far from it. It’s scared, desperation seeping into him through the link which connection its forcing. He reaches back, letting the drowning hands grip onto him to stay above the surface. The familiar tendrils of another God curl around him, making him shiver with the connection. Dream has never felt this way before – weak and small with a barely there whisper. It sends rage and sadness through him all at once. 

The wind picks up around the two of them and on it are words in a language only their kind know. Techno has his heading, and he pulls his awareness in with a snap. In the same moment, thunder rolls overhead. He looks at Tommy, who is obviously afraid of unknown brewing around him. He has a task for his little mortal.

“Find Phil, Tommy, we’re going to need him.”

Tommy puffs up at the demand, “What! Why?”

Techno has already pulled out a piece of paper and is scribbling coordinates on it. He hands them over to Tommy, who is looking at him like he’s grown three heads.

“Something’s wrong here, Tommy,” Techno pulls the sack off his back – it has some of his more important supplies, but he knows they will benefit Tommy more for the coming days. “Phil can help, because if it can do this then everyone here is in danger.”

Tommy stares at him with huge eyes as he accepts the bag, “Do what?”

“Steal a God’s face.”

**Author's Note:**

> i have a twitter now pls go follow it: @atwtbettafish


End file.
